And they lived happily ever after…for at least a year.
In that first blissful year Snow White and her beloved Prince Charming led a contented life, living it to the fullest. They married in a springtime ceremony in front of the dwarf’s house, with a dragon-fire sunset and the blessing of the Queen of the Fairies to top it all off. They were flown on the back of a flying horse to the prince’s gargantuan palace on the outskirts of the country. Palace staff that loved them like family greeted them, and they were showered with gifts from enchanted rubies to bottles of pixie dust. Life as a princess was a dream.
She remembered that night, her wedding night, like a disturbing nightmare that never left her mind. Prince Charming, Ryker, had scooped her up and carried her to their marriage bed. There had been scented candles and rose petals and a man behind a blue velvet screen playing a romantic melody on a violin. It was everything she had wanted from her wedding night and more. She had literally been swept off her feet and she hoped the feeling would never go away. Even now that feeling of pure happiness was like a drug that could lift up her spirits whenever she felt morose.
When the violinist had been dismissed, Ryker had locked the door, looked at her with his green eyes and his dashing smile and his square jawed profile and said, “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
She had never felt more beautiful until that night. To hear those words coming out of the lips of her beloved had made her feel truly wanted and needed for the first time in her life.
Snow had giggled and said, “I’m waiting for you.”
“This has been…quite a whirlwind, hmm?” he’d said.
“I like whirlwinds,” she’d said. “They made me dizzy. You make me dizzy.”
He had slowly, teasingly unbuttoned his shirt. She had imagined all sorts of things during the build up to that night; rippling muscles, glistening pecs, hard nipples. She was an eighteen-year-old virgin, used to nothing but tragedy and heartache her whole life, and she wanted this prince to make her feel special. This was the night she had been waiting for.
She’d watched, biting her lip in anticipation, as the last button was undone. She couldn’t wait to run her hands down his perfect body. She’d received a small bottle of body chocolate from one of the prince’s flighty cousins, and as much as the gift had embarrassed her, she was determined to use it.
“Hurry up,” she’d teased. “I want you so much.”
He laughed as he flung his shirt onto the thick, carpeted floor. He had a warm laugh.
“Ryker, my darling…”
While Snow White wasn’t exactly known a forward person, she had always prided herself on telling the truth, and the truth was Ryker had the body of a starved man. It was weedy, with little spots of acne here and there. There was no muscle definition whatsoever. Snow had sighed with displeasure, but she loved him. He was her savior and her prince and her husband. Surely having a perfect body didn’t matter?
“Are you alright?” he’d asked. His concern touched her, and she’d felt guilty for over-analyzing his weak body. “You look shocked.”
She’d taken his hand tenderly and brought it up to her face. She still loved his touch.
“Nothing is the matter,” she’d lied. “I’m just so happy. I didn’t think I’d ever be happy again. I just wish my father was here to see this.”
She’d giggled, realizing her words. “I meant I wished my father was here to see me marry, not see us…”
Ryker had laughed too, and he’d kissed her to shut her up.
She quickly undressed, feeling a little embarrassed at first, wondering whether her own body would be under the same scrutiny that she’d put her husband’s under. His eyes did open wide when she first revealed her nakedness. He’d probably never seen a naked woman before. He was a virgin too.
He touched her cheek again and said, “Don’t be embarrassed.”
She smiled. “I’ll try not to.”
He climbed awkwardly onto the bed with her. She tried to discern some sort of bulge in his trousers, but couldn’t seem to see anything. Perhaps he wasn’t excited yet? She should work on that. The wedding advisors had told her it was her job to pleasure her husband.
“I love you so much Snow…erm…”
“Snow White,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember my name. Just make love to me.”
“You really do have skin as white as snow, and hair as black as coal.” His warm smile once again melted her. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Snow helped him out of his trousers, but kept her eyes averted from his private parts. For some reason she didn’t want to see it, not until they had consummated their marriage.
Make this night the most magical of my life, she had prayed.
He climbed on top of her, elbowing her in the face. He apologized and started kissing her neck. His lips were wet, leaving saliva all over her like a panting dog. She had cringed but forced herself to stick with it. She loved him, and the sex didn’t have to be perfect, as long as she was with him.
After that it was pretty much all over with quickly. He had groped at her body, at her breasts, like he was choosing a ripe melon. After five minutes of what she could only assume was sex, the prince had gotten off her and gone to sleep.
“My prince?” she asked, nudging him.
He snored in her face.
That was it, she’d thought. That’s what sex with your husband is like. What a disappointment.
She had sighed and stared at the ceiling all night, thinking about how having a Prince Charming was not all it was cracked up to be.
Despite the bad sexual experience, Snow and Ryker were happy. They were content. They were deeply in love. Snow grew to get used to their bad love making, and decided that if she wasn’t going to have a good lover then she was going to have a good husband instead.
He was a good husband. He was doting, loving and she cherished him more than anything. They went riding together. They visited the orphanage to raise money together. They laughed together and they went to the theatre together. Life for them was good.
After a year, however, the cracks had started to show. He started to pay less attention to her. They made love far less frequently. He fell out of raising monies for charities, and going to the theatre, and gained a sudden allergy for horses. His manner became brusquer, and he became more like the horrid princes she had known as a child. He was no longer the Prince Charming she had fallen in love with.
It was just last week, when Snow White was given a surprise 23rd birthday party, that she realized she was bored. She never did anything anymore. When Ryker had become bored of all their activities together, she had stopped doing them too because she didn’t like to do them on her own. Besides, a modern princess was required to do nothing but look pretty, sew and read women’s books. She wanted to do something interesting, something dangerous.
Usually when she became bored she dusted around the palace. The place was so huge it would take her a week to dust, but it was something to do, something to take her mind off her tedious marriage. Now Ryker had forbidden her from dusting as they had a maid to that sort of menial labor, even though their maid, Lisa, was always sleeping in bed late.
“No princess wife of mine is going to clean like some common person,” he’d said to her in that irritatingly haughty tone of his. “I’d be the talk of the kingdom if people were to find out!”
“I won’t tell them,” she’d declared.
“No more cleaning!”
Snow White had tickled him under the chin with the feather duster, feeling playful. He’d snatched the duster off her and stalked away. Snow White had crossed her arms, feeling her face go red from embarrassment and anger. So no more dusting for her, then.
That was another thing that had started to annoy her about him. Prince Charming may have been dashing and handsome, but he had turned into a stuck-up moron like every other member of royalty in the kingdom. He though
t he knew what was best for her, including telling her what to wear, what to think, what to do and what not to do.
Ryker liked to say the word “common” more times a day than he admired his shiny brown hair in the mirror. His bark color mane reminded her of the shaggy dog she used to have as a little girl. How she’d missed that dog. At least the dog had appeared to enjoy her presence.
“That dress is so common, Snow White,” he’d say before taking her out to some awful party with awful people. “I’ve bought you something more elegant for an occasion such as this, something less…common. Try on that other dress that I’ve had specially tailored for you.”
His taste in dresses was quite spectacular she had to admit. Snow had an inkling that he used to try them on when she was visiting Batty in the dwarfs’ retirement home, but she had yet to catch him in the act. She was too embarrassed to even talk to him about it.
The door opened to her study. She turned around from her oak desk to see the palace butler, Jeremy. He had a silver tray with him, laid with a cup of steaming herbal tea and a plate of homemade chocolate biscuits. She was glad of the interruption, as she loved Jeremy like a father.
Suffice to say Snow White had put on a few pounds since marrying the prince. While she wasn’t considered overweight, others in her husband’s social circle often made fun of her size. Besides, eating was a comfort for her. She didn’t care if she wasn’t a stick-thin, broom shaped ninny like every other princess and princess-wannabe in the land. She wouldn’t change her figure to please anybody, even her husband, though for some reason he had never commented on it.
“I’ve brought some light refreshments for you, my princess,” Jeremy declared in his clear voice. “I baked these biscuits for you just this morning. I know how you love your biscuits.”
“I do love my biscuits,” she conceded, trying to hide a grin. “You spoil me, you really do.”
He placed the tray on her desk, being careful not to disturb any of her writing implements. She looked towards the open door and suddenly felt panic.
“Did the prince see you, Jeremy?” Snow asked. She rushed to the door, closed it, and calmly sat back down again. “If he knows I’m secretly eating chocolate biscuits he’ll send me back to that diet class again. That witch who runs it threatened to turn me into a chocolate bar the last time I was there, and I threatened to punch her into next week if she even tried.”
Jeremy smiled and said, “I took the back stairs, my lady. Nobody saw me. You are quite safe.”
She took one of the biscuits and sighed. Heaven! Jeremy’s biscuits were the only things in life she had to look forward to. They were so delicious she sometimes even dreamed of them.
“I would like to warn you not to eat too many,” he cautioned her. “I don’t want you to put on too much weight and end up being as big as the cook. She has heart trouble, you know.”
Snow White thought that Jeremy cared for her well being more than the prince did. He certainly checked up on her when she went exploring the maze-like palace and got herself lost, which happened fairly often, even now after years of marriage. She still wasn’t sure whether there were two wings or three, or how many towers there were. She was fairly confident there were exactly 2001 rooms, but only because Ryker boasted about it at parties.
“I need something to keep me occupied while I’m writing my autobiography,” she explained, mouth full of chocolaty-goodness. “Chocolate has a wonderful effect on me. It seems to drive my creative impulses.”
“Are you sure this autobiography thing is such a good idea?” Jeremy asked. His concern always touched me. “I know you haven’t had such a stable life so far. I don’t want you to be get upset from reliving so many bad memories.”
“What else have I got to do with my time?” she said. “The prince and I used to engage in so many activities together, but now he doesn’t want to do anything with me, and he won’t let me do anything interesting either.”
“I suppose if it makes you happy,” he conceded.
“I suppose it’s cathartic in a way.”
Jeremy smiled at her again. Snow White realized that her butler had a much nicer smile than her husbands. It was full of warmth and caring and it made her feel like she was much loved.
Snow White had decided only a day ago to write her autobiography to stop boredom from setting in further like leg cramp. Only knowing how strange her life used to be made her realize how mundane it was now. How exhilarating her life used to be, with being targeted for death by her wicked stepmother, and hiding out with the dwarves, and being saved by a handsome prince. That had been the adventure of her life. At the time she had been scared and quite lonely but, looking back on it now, she wished she could relive it again for the chance of some juicy action. How she wished to become embroiled in another adrenaline pumping adventure, where this time the hero was a proper prince. Maybe she could go on a quest to find the fabled golden skinned dwarf? Danger, lust and excitement! Wasn’t that what every woman wanted?
“How far are you with it?” Jeremy asked, trying to sound interested.
“I’ve just got to the bit where my wicked stepmother stabbed my father with a poisoned knife.” She braced herself for the memories of her father that came flooding through her. They were like a torrent of grief. Still, she remembered the good times as well.
“I wish I’d known your father,” said Jeremy.
“You two would’ve gotten along famously,” said Snow White. “He was like me. He didn’t like to be closed in, and he craved adventure. Marrying a sexy young wife was an adventure to him. Shame she was an evil, murderous witch.”
She closed her notebook and sighed. She would never get rip-roaring, adrenaline pumping adventure ever again. Her life was over. She would die, in this stuffy gargantuan palace, as the wife of the most irritating prince the world had ever known. She would die bored.
She felt Jeremy’s hand on her neck. He could always tell when she was morose. She took another chocolate biscuit and nibbled on that. It made her feel slightly better, but she was sick of feeling sorry for herself.
“Things will get better,” said Jeremy. “You just have to trust me. Things are always dark just before the light.”
“You keep saying that,” said Snow White. She couldn’t hide her frustration. “Things just keep getting worse. My family line has literally been blessed with longer life than the average human; something to do with one of my ancestors saving the life of a witch; I don’t really know the details. I could live to two hundred years old in this palace, Jeremy. Just imagine another hundred and seventy-seven more years in this place! Talk about living your worst nightmare.”
“You can have children, grandchildren. They will keep you company. Ryker’s family line isn’t as blessed as yours. They never live past sixty. He won’t always be around.”
She imagined all her children as spoiled, annoying and pompous, just like their father. Maybe she could help raise them to be kind people, but her husband’s influence would always be there, and as a proper princess she would be expected to palm her children off on nannies anyway.
“I married too young,” Snow White realized. “I’m still just a girl. I was only eighteen when I married the prince.”
“Some princesses marry at thirteen. You were an old maid compared to some of them,” said Jeremy.
“Being an old maid sounds good right about now.”
“You’ll never be an old maid.”
“Yeah, because of that witch’s curse. Sorry, blessing.”
Jeremy kissed her on the forehead and said, “Cynicism doesn’t suit you, Snow White.”
“Cynicism is all I have.”
Right then she wished the prince had never woken her up from her coma. She’d rather spend her life asleep in a glass coffin in the woods than be bored. She hated thinking that way.
“I better get going,” said Jeremy, heading for the door. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“The prince works you too hard,” sai
d Snow White. “You’re not as young as you used to be.”
“I feel young in here,” he said, tapping his chest.
She reached out for another biscuit when all of a sudden Jeremy clutched his chest. A rictus of pain lit up his face. Snow White put her hand to her mouth, momentarily shocked, and ran to help the only person she could trust in the world.
“Jeremy?” she cried. “Jeremy, what’s wrong?”
“My heart…”
He collapsed onto the floor. Snow White started to panic, not sure what to do. Should she call for a doctor, or get her husband? She couldn’t live without Jeremy in her life. He had to survive.
She flung open the door and screamed, “Please, somebody, help!”
She looked back at Jeremy, but he was unconscious. She kneeled down by him, feeling for a pulse. There was still something there, but it was faint.
“Please, whatever gods are out there; save him,” she begged.
Turn over for an exciting preview of “The Girl From Yesterday”, the first part in the exciting “The Blood Dynasty Chronicles” series.
The Girl From Yesterday
1
Ashlyn looked up as he entered her cell. She wanted to ignore him or tell him to leave her to her privacy but she feared the backlash. He could have her taken to the kitchens to have her blood drained if she disobeyed him. Yet the rebellious part of her longed to stand up for herself and for her rights as a human. Would he even listen? He’d probably just smirk. The Sublime family liked to smirk.
She waited for him to say something, refusing to look at him. He brought out things in her that she refused to acknowledge. Besides, it was forbidden to look a member of the family in the eye.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked,” he apologized.
“It’s your house, you can do as you please,” said Ashlyn.
They certainly did as they pleased. Ashlyn remembered the look on the maid’s face as he…She banished the image from her mind. It did no good to ponder.
“I don’t normally talk to the workers but you intrigue me,” he said. She kept her eyes on his chest. He was wearing the form-fitting suit he had on earlier. No part of him was unattractive. She turned her eyes to the floor instead.
“Nothing intrigues me these days,” he admitted.
“I guess I do have an interesting past,” said Ashlyn.
She laughed, and he said, “What’s so funny?”
“Workers shouldn’t laugh?” she demanded.
He came closer, and her hands began to shake. This man was a monster. They were all monsters, swarming over the planet like ants. She was trapped in a room with one of them and she was sure he could hear her heart beat faster in pure terror. It probably made him happy to see her so cowed in his presence.
“I want you to tell me about yourself,” he asked. “I want to know everything there is to know about Ashlyn Fountain.”
“I belong to you,” snapped Ashlyn. “I’m your slave, your property. What else do you want, or need, to know?”
He gave her a surprise when he sat beside her on the bed. There was no warmth coming from him, just a wave of icy coldness that seemed to pick at her bones. She wondered why he was really here and when he would leave. What she’d done today in her duties as slave had drained her and she just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for a hundred years.
I’ve slept enough, she thought. I’ve slept more than enough.
“Please,” he pleaded. The note in his voice surprised her. She thought she heard genuine interest. “Humor me. I want to know how you got here.”
“You know how I got here,” she said. “That’s why you find me so interesting.”
“Please.”
It couldn’t do her any harm to tell him, could it? If it got her treated any better in the future then weaving a simple story of her past would be a sound investment.
“You want to know what my life was like before this? It was boring and simple. I was a normal girl with normal problems. A thousand years ago, vampires were considered folklore and were stars of romantic fiction. How could we ever know that they were real, and that they would take over the world one day, and that world would be a utopia for them? For us humans, though...we’re slaves. I’ll tell you what my life was like before...it was better than this.”